Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski
by jaytoyz
Summary: After learning of the sanction that almost was, Chuck wonders about the trust he has for his handlers. Thanks to a multi-player online game, Run For Your Life, he begins planning for his eventual escape. Sarah's increased attn. has him looking for truth.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Please read as this isn't all a rambling bit of self indulgence**…This is not an entirely new idea…many writers have used Season2, episode 1 as a jump point so as far as original ideas go, this one most definitely isn't mine. Now, I hope that I can claim the idea of Chuck using an online, multi-player game to help plan and execute his escape because that's the basis for this story. '_Run For Your Life' _is my idea for a huge online game and if it already exists, I'll have to apologize to the creators…if it doesn't, I won't mind if somebody takes the idea and runs with it…just a small monetary 'thank you' would earn my gratitude (and signature on any documents that need to be signed)…this first chapter seemed to flow much faster than usual for me and I'm hoping that anyone who reads will please take the time and let me know if it's ok…look, there he goes again, begging for attention in the form of reviews…remember, I don't own the characters featured in the TV series Chuck and, so far, I remain penniless for the fruits of my labors. I'm still having fun so once again, I offer a profound thank you to APR, the man who got me started with all this scribbling stuff…Thanks Jim. _**JT**_

**Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski - Chapter 1**

The last two days had been a roller coaster of a ride and, if the powers that be were to be believed, he was now poised on the brink of getting his life back. All it had taken to get the news was a series of close brushes with his own mortality that included recovering the cypher, a part needed to make the new intersect computer function…twice. He hadn't even taken the opportunity to tease Casey about the second recovery being necessitated by the NSA agent losing the part in the first place. He'd also found himself being dangled off the side of a building, much higher than he thought would have been survivable if 'Mr. Colt' had followed through on his threat and dropped him…twice. He'd also used Morgan's 'Call of Duty' plan to bluff his way out a showdown with a group of mercenaries and hated the fact that something so cool was just another thing on a long list of 'cool stuff' that he was forbidden to ever tell his best friend.

The highlight of the past forty-eight hours had been the real date with Sarah Walker. As usual, she'd looked beautiful and, unlike all of their cover dates, there'd been a sparkle in the blonde's eyes that left him feeling that she was actually happy that they were on a 'real' date, as they'd both referred to the evening. Despite his profound lack of experience in reading a woman's intents when on a date with him, he had a feeling that dinner companion might be thinking about doing 'stuff' after their meal. Before he had the chance to see if his impression of the CIA' agent's intentions were correct, he'd flashed on several of the people sitting around them and then, before Mr. Colt could make good on his threat, Casey had turned the small 'walk-in, sit down' restaurant into a drive through, the big man's Crown Vic ruining their date but saving their lives.

Casey had taken a shot from the larger man's fist before finally managing to make a getaway, leaving Chuck conflicted. He felt bad that his handler had been sucker punched but he hated that his date with Sarah had been interrupted by more than a ton of classic Detroit iron, even though it wasn't really the Major's fault.

He was about to unlock the door to Casa Bartowski, his key held between his thumb and forefinger, when he heard raised voices coming from inside the apartment. He knew that Ellie and Devon were both at work so he paused at the door, wondering just who was in his sister's place. He refused to let the happy feeling that being done with the government had given him be driven completely from his mind by the mystery voices that were arguing behind the door.

Leaning closer, he heard Sarah ordering Casey to put his gun away because the new Intersect had exploded and the sanction had been canceled. Not wanting to hear anything else, he turned and quietly made his way across the courtyard, stopping at the entrance arch and then, after taking a deep breath and then a second, turned back to retrace his steps. Putting a little extra 'oomph' into his steps, he jiggled his keys and whistled tunelessly, hoping his 'announced presence would alert his handlers to his imminent arrival.

After taking a few seconds more than usual to open the door, he stepped into the apartment and wasn't surprised to find nobody standing in the front room. Casey and Sarah were the best and he made enough noise to alert them to his impending entrance. Making his way to the kitchen, he imagined his handlers hurrying to make their exit through the 'Morgan door' and then moving noiselessly towards the Major's apartment where they'd no doubt be spending the next few hours trying to figure out what they'd do now that the potential for their babysitting job to be extended, indefinitely.

After pulling his tie loose, he was working at the buttons on his shirt with one hand while grabbing a beer from the refrigerator. Pushing the door closed, he turned and resumed his march to his bedroom, sure he'd be up most of the night, worrying and fretting about his continued 'forced' servitude to the US government. Maybe he would have to man up and ask about being put on the payroll he mused, his feet seemingly following an ingrained memory, guiding him to his room despite the lack of light in the apartment.

Stepping through his doorway, his empty hand instinctively reached out and flipped the light switch after he'd closed his eyes against the flare of light that he knew to be coming. Opening and blinking his eyes several times, he was about to take another step when he realized that someone was in his bed. Well, not just someone was sitting in his bed…no, it was Sarah Walker sitting there, the comforter pooled around her lap and…holy hell, she was wearing a bra that must have been designed to produce blindness and stupidity in men who saw it because…"holy hell" he mumbled to himself, stunned beyond belief.

Chuck finally remembered to breath at the same moment he realized that the beer he'd been holding had slipped from his nerveless fingers and fallen to shatter between his feet. He could feel the blush that he was sure covered him from the waist up and he wanted to turn away, sure that his open mouthed stare was anything but respectful.

"Sarah, uh, what are you doing here?" he finally managed to gasp out while struggling to turn away from the vision of drop dead sexiness that was staring at him with a small smile on her face.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sarah Walker wanted to smile at Chuck's reaction to seeing her in his bed. She'd been planning to seduce him before she'd gotten the panicked call from the new acting-head of the CIA, ordering her to secure the asset and to make sure that Casey was aware that General Beckman's sanction order had been rescinded. Her choice of underwear had been the result of a special trip to Victoria's Secret that had lasted almost an hour as she struggled to find just the right outfit. She was sure that the salesclerk had been getting annoyed with her but she'd refused to leave until she'd found the perfect outfit, spending more time choosing this bra and panty combo than she'd ever spent selecting 'seduction gear' before.

If she was honest with herself , she'd spent the time because she'd never before wanted a night to be perfect. She'd never before wanted to dress to please a man the way she wanted to please Chuck and his reaction was definitely worth every penny she'd spent and he hadn't seen the bottoms yet.

She watched his eyes as he struggled to look away from her chest, secretly thrilled and, since she was being honest with herself, aroused by his reaction to her planning. The material was so sheer that she was sure Chuck must have seen her nipples harden when her own arousal, caused by the flash of intense desire in Chuck's eyes, washed over her, leaving her glad to be sitting down because if she'd been standing, she would have surely fallen when her knees buckled.

She set new personal records after receiving the call from her new boss, making the trip from her hotel room to Casa Bartowski faster than she ever imagined possible, pushing her beloved Porsche harder that she'd ever pushed it before, fighting against the tears that had been threatening to fall since she'd learned of the termination order that General Diane Beckman had issued to Casey. She hadn't bothered trying to call her partner, knowing the big man would have gone dark as soon as he received his orders, praying that she'd get to him before he could kill their asset.

She'd used the 'Morgan door' and had found Casey lying in wait, his silenced pistol gripped firmly in his hand while he stood within sight of the front door. She'd allowed one of her feet to scuff against the floor and Casey had whirled around, his gun pointing at her forehead and his finger already beginning to squeeze against the trigger.

"Walker, what the fuck?" he'd hissed at her, not letting his gun waver.

"The new Intersect exploded, taking Graham and five agents with it" she said, struggling to keep her voice from sounding panicked. "The sanction has been canceled."

"Really?" Casey had asked and she was sure she'd seen a flash of relief in his eyes.

"Call Beckman if you don't believe me" she replied, her hand hovering near her own weapon, ready to pull it if needed.

"Nah, figure you wouldn't lie, not unless you're hopelessly compromised" he added, reaching behind his back to tuck his gun into the waistband of his jeans while offering a knowing smirk. "guess you want to tell your boy toy the good news yourself?" he asked without expecting an answer, already heading towards Chuck's room and the unconventional entrance/exit she'd left open behind her.

Before she could say a word, Casey had disappeared and moments later she heard the sounds of her nerd making his way towards the front door. Moving as quickly as possible, she'd rushed into his room, pulling her blouse over her head while throwing the comforter back on his bed. Sliding in as quickly as possible, she'd just rearranged the comforter when Chuck had walked into the room.

When the bottle had slipped from Chuck's hand, she fought the urge to giggle at the comical sight of a stunned nerd, standing just a couple of feet away, his eyes still locked on her tits and the flimsy material that did very little to conceal them while his now empty hand twitched and grasped at a bottle of beer that was already shattered against the floor.

"Chuck?" she called to him, making no move to cover herself and even toying with the idea of simply throwing back the comforter so he'd see that her panties were made of the same diaphanous material that wasn't doing a thing to conceal her breasts.

"Wh…what?" Chuck finally managed to answer, he eyes dropping to stare at the mess around his feet. "Uh, why, um, why are you here, Sarah?" he managed to get out, keeping his head tilted downwards.

"I thought it was time for another 'sleepover', you know, keeping the cover working and all that" she replied, smiling as she watched Chuck struggle with the desire to let his eyes drift back upwards.

"But, I, uh, I thought that Project Intersect was finished?" he said, his eyes popping back up and after a brief stop, locking onto hers.

"The new Intersect Blew up, killing Graham and five agents. It looks like you get to keep your job…and us, for a little while longer" she told him, hoping that the joy and arousal she was feeling wasn't evident in her voice or in her eyes.

"Oh, you don't say" Chuck replied, allowing his eyes to drift back down to the soggy mess at his feet. "I guess I better get something to clean up this mess" Chuck announced, turning and leaving before she could say a word.

'What the hell?' she asked herself, completely unprepared for Chuck's response. She'd expected him to get angry, or happy or even, stare at her chest a little more but the cold indifference he'd used after learning that he would be remaining the Intersect caught her off guard. She was still wondering what he was thinking when he walked back into the room, a mop and bucket in one hand and Ellie's tray of cleaning supplies in the other. Without a word or, more disappointingly, a glance at her chest, he dropped to his knees and started to gather up shards of broken glass.

'Time for step two' she told herself, pulling the comforter aside and climbing from the bed to stand in front of the young man who had a handful of broken glass. She set her feet about a foot apart and waited, looking forward to seeing Chuck's reaction when he got a good look at the almost transparent panties that would be barely concealing the results of the hour she'd spent in her tub, carefully trimming and shaving…everything.

"Chuck?" she asked, her patience, what little there had been, gone. She needed him to see what she had on display. She needed to see the look in his eyes when he realized that her 'sleep over' offer involved a lot more than the two of them spending a restless night as the struggled to keep from touching one another.

"Yes?" Chuck asked, his eyes never leaving the hand that cradled the broken pieces of the beer bottle that his other hand had been picking up off of the floor.

"Please look at me, Chuck" she pleaded huskily, waiting to see his eyes. She watched him start to lift his head and she knew the exact moment that he realized that the panties she was wearing were a match to her bra…not by a sudden intake of breath but by the blood curdling scream that escaped his lips right afterwards, which was most definitely, one of the last reactions she had been expecting.

Looking down, she immediately found the cause of the scream and fought against the huge wave of guilt that slammed against her. Without bothering to check the floor for glass, she dropped to her knees and reached out her hands, gently taking Chuck's hand in hers and slowly beginning to peel his fingers back, ignoring the blood that seemed to be pouring to the floor.

Looking up, she found herself staring into the dark brown eyes that had haunted her dreams for months, now filled with the strangest mixture of lust and pain, the second the obvious result of him clutching his hand into a fist when he'd caught sight of her barely concealed vagina that had been mere inches from his face when he'd looked up, the sight of which was probably the cause of the look of lust that was beginning to fade as the pain from his hand over-rode his desire.

"I'm so sorry, Chuck" she said as she allowed her eyes to drop back to his hand and she began to work to gently remove the shards of glass that had left his hand a sliced and bloody mess. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry" she said again as she fought against the tears that were suddenly threatening to make it hard for her to see. 'That's the last thing you need' she told herself, 'to not be able to see the glass that you need to get out of his hand.'

"Let's get you into the bathroom so I can get this cleaned up" she said, moving to get back to her feet and hoping her grip on his hand would cause him anymore pain as she helped him get to this feet.

"Don't move Sarah, you might cut your feet" Chuck said as he got up from the floor.

"Chuck, your hand" Sarah pointed out in a panicked voice, her concern for him over riding her concern for her own flesh.

"Sarah!" Chuck said with more force, finally getting her attention. "Put something on your feet" he demanded, using his undamaged hand to pry her fingers from around his other hand. "Put something on and then meet me in the bathroom" he added. "Now!" he almost yelled when she didn't move.

Once she began moving towards the pile of her clothes in the corner, Chuck left without another word. Turning back around, Sarah choked back a sob when she caught sight of the pool of blood on the floor, the size of it re-igniting the massive pit of worry her stomach had become. "Way to go, Sam' she said to herself, using her real name to launch into a new campaign of self-chastisement. "Show the man that you're ready, that you want his hands all over you and what happens? He cuts himself so he doesn't have to touch you' she tells herself, knowing full well that he didn't cut himself on purpose but not resisting the urge for a little self-flagellation.

Rushing out of the room and down the hall, she found Chuck standing over the sink in the small bathroom, his good hand gripping the edge of the counter in an obvious effort to keep himself on his feet. She'd forgotten how queasy he got at the sight of blood and found herself amazed that he'd been able to not only make sure she didn't cut her feet but he also managed to make it to the bathroom and, by the look of it, remove most of the larger pieces of glass that she'd missed in her initial inspection.

Moving quickly, she guided him the short distance to the toilet, urging him to take a seat while maneuvering him around so his still dripping hand remained over the sink. Taking his hand in hers, she bent over to study the bloody mess, pausing to turn on the warm water, planning to make sure most of the glass was removed before wrapping his hand and then facing the loin when she took Chuck to the Emergency room at Westside Medical.

Ellie Bartowski was going to go into 'big-sister' mode when she saw Chuck's hand and there was absolutely no way she was going to tell Chuck's sister just exactly what had led to the 'accident'. She knew that he hated lying to his sister but she was fairly confident that he would be about as eager as she was to tell the older Bartowski just what had been going on when the 'incident', as she would have to refer to the accident from now on, had happened.

Gently picking at the few remaining pieces of glass she could see, she pulled Chuck's hand under the steady stream of warm water and waited until most of the blood had been washed away before pulling out the last few pieces she could see. Grabbing a clean towel from the edge of the counter, she gently wrapped it around his hand and then started to move towards the bathroom door.

"Let's go Chuck. We're going to the emergency room" she announced, tugging gently at his wrist.

"No!"

"Yes we are!" she snapped back.

"No, we can't…"

"Yes we can, and we are!" Sarah said forcefully, pulling on his wrist. "I don't care if you don't like hospitals, we have to go and have your hand taken care of."

"Sarah, we can't go to the hospital…"

"Yes we can and we are!" Sarah barked out, hoping the steel in her voice would put an end to Chuck's silly rebellion.

"Sarah, look at the way you're dressed" Chuck responded, his eyes wandering from her neck down to her feet and then back up before turning his head in an attempt to hide the blush was darkening his entire upper body.

Looking down, she felt herself begin to blush when she realized that, except for the slippers she'd found in the corner, none of her other clothing would be considered acceptable in public.

"Don't get me wrong, I happen to like it but maybe…"

"Yeah, I'll grab a t-shirt and a pair of your sweats and then we're going to the emergency room."

"Yes ma'am" Chuck answered with a smile.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Chuck watched, out of the corner of his eye, as the surgeon tied off the last of the twenty three stitches he'd had to use to repair the damage caused by a nearly naked Sarah Walker.

"Look Sarah, Frankenhand" he announced, once the doctor had finished his needle work, lifting the hand and aiming it towards the beautiful blonde who'd refused to leave his side once she'd covered herself back at Casa De Bartowski.

"Quit kidding around Chuck" she admonished him in a shaky voice. "Let him get you wrapped up so I can take you home" she commanded,

"Yes ma'am" he replied in a much lower voice than he'd ever used before. "What ever the mistress commands" he added, keeping his voice low and adding a silly European accent to it. "Grrrrrrr" he moaned out, flexing his hand into a claw shape and pawing at the air in front of Sarah's face. "Frankenhand Lives!" he moaned, about to get up from his seat when his sister appeared in the open doorway.

"Sit down, Chuck. Let my friend finish his work so you can go home and sleep off that Vicodin I gave you earlier" he sister commanded in a voice that left no doubt that her instruction was to be followed to the letter.

"You told me they were Tylenol 3's " he whined, suddenly understanding why he'd been feeling so strange for the last twenty minutes. The drugs must have been kicking in. That would explain the 'happy' feeling but wouldn't explain the odd sense of loss he'd been feeling ever since he'd found Sarah in his room earlier that night.

He'd expected to find Casey gone and Sarah sitting in his room, waiting to tell him the 'great' news that his life of servitude wasn't over after all. He certainly never expected to find Sarah in his bed and wearing underwear that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The shattered beer bottle had been a testament to her bra's bewitching power and her panties, when they had finally been revealed, had robbed him of his ability to breath and lead, in a round about way, to his current predicament. He couldn't actually blame Sarah for the damage to his hand although he could certainly blame her for the dreams that he was sure would be troubling him for quite a while to come.

"Will you make sure my brother gets home?" his sister asked Sarah, the sound of her voice dragging him back from thoughts of a certain blonde and her clothes that almost weren't there.

"Of course I will" Sarah answered, giving the older Bartowski a smile that seemed to say, 'you don't even have to ask'. Watching the eye contact between the two women, Chuck found himself wondering why the blonde Agent had been in his room, dressed the way she had been. If he hadn't overheard the muffled conversation right before, he might have allowed himself to believe that she had finally given in to the obvious chemistry that they seemed to have going but now, he found himself wondering if she was simply ramping up her efforts to control him.

Promising himself to keep a closer watch on her, he found himself drifting back to thoughts of the lingerie she'd been wearing but before he could lose himself to the memories, the doctor finished wrapping his hand and told him to 'go home'.

"Are you ready to go home?" Sarah asked with a hesitant smile.

"Yeah, Frankenhand and I are ready to go. Thanks for everything, Ellie" he said to his sister after giving the surgeon who'd repaired his hand a clumsy, left-handed shake.

"I'll check on you when I get home" she called after him as he allowed Sarah to latch onto his left hand and begin pulling him towards the front entrance.

"Ok. Love you, sis" he called back over his shoulder. I'm in your hands" he informed Sarah, silently reminding himself just how real that statement was and then promising himself to start looking into taking some of that responsibility out of her hands and putting it back into his own…where it really belonged.

**A/N:2 **Next time, I hope to show how Chuck finds the '_Run For Your Life' _game and begins to use it to plan his own escape.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **First, thanks to Michael66 and Aerox who have both contributed chapters to the Sarah Walker : Broken Beyond Repair challenge. The efforts are spectacular and if you haven't had the chance, please check them out. If you would like, any and all contributions for this story are greatly appreciated and will be given proper acknowledgement when they are added to that AU…happy to see that we're still getting great stuff posted here and I look forward to each day so I can check out the new stuff. Thanks to everyone who's alerted or favorited any of my scribbles and I'm especially happy for everyone who's taken some of their valuable personal time to review…now, the semi-important stuff…I don't own Chuck, the tv series or any of the characters featured there in…I'm not making any money doing this and I continue to flaunt my mediocre control of spelling and grammar by doing all of this without a beta. Thanks to BDaddyDL for the bday greeting and 'howdys' to Tom, Danny and Nate for their support. I know that someone is waiting for more TRFW and Swimmer and I hope to have some soon. Still having fun so thanks to Jim. _**JT**_

**P.S. **Hey, DocinOz, it was just an attempt at humor, however feeble it might have been.

**Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski - Chapter 2**

Chuck Bartowski sat staring at the computer monitor, wondering what his next move would be if he hoped to get out of the jam he'd managed to get himself into. The three Czech enemy operatives had been following him for three days and if he didn't do something drastic, he'd either be captured or take a bullet to the brain and that wasn't how he wanted to finish his day.

He didn't have a clue who his enemies were, just that they had been stalking him for almost seventy two hours. He'd hoped his latest foes would be as easy as the operative from Australia had been but they seemed to take their assignment with a scary amount of determination. He wanted to smile when he remembered the code name his Aussie adversary had chosen, calling himself DocNOz and constantly wanting to chat about the merits Vegamite as a replacement for whipped cream and chocolate sauce in the bedroom while they struggled to outwit each other. Chuck had given him the slip in Tijuana and later, when he caught up with him on the docks in San Pedro, managed to bludgeon him to death using a frozen salami that a friend had smuggled into the country for him.

Shaking his head as he struggled to decide which option would afford him the best chance to make it out of the cheap hotel with his scalp intact, the faint scent of grapefruit wafted around him just before a pair of strong but definitely feminine hands slid over his eyes and a pair breasts made themselves known to his back. The urge to flinch and scream with fear warred with the altogether too enjoyable sensation his back was enjoying. With the sudden addition of warm breath against his ear whispering 'guess who?', his little head officially took over his response and the scream that was lodged in his throat died a silent and un-mourned death.

"Agent Walker?" Chuck asked after a quick survey revealed that no one was within listening distance. He felt the woman at his back stiffen briefly before dropping her hands and then grabbing his shoulders to spin him around to face her. He took note of the mixture of confusion, anger and, strangely, hurt that filled her eyes.

"Chuck, you know better than to call me that where people can overhear."

"Sarah" he replied with just a hint of exasperation, "there's no one close enough to hear me but, if it'll make you feel better, I'm sorry I slipped and I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again." He watched as his handler took a quick look around to see if he had been correct in his assurance that no one could've heard him 'out' her.

"How did you know?"

"There hasn't been anyone close for the last five minutes" Chuck explained while he reached behind himself and hit the escape key, not wanting Sarah to know about the game he had been in the middle of. "I know better than to say something that might endanger our cover, Agent Walker."

"Chuck, have you noticed that you've been calling me 'Agent' a lot more recently? Is there a reason for that?"

"Isn't that your title?" he replied, honestly confused. Ever since the night of the 'almost' sanction, the beautiful blonde had been much more aggressive about PDAs and wanting to spend time with him. If it hadn't been for the fact that he'd overheard her talking to Casey that night, he might have allowed himself to believe that he was the luckiest man in the world because the most beautiful woman in the world had finally given in to her desires and was now ready to start 'something' with him. Each time she threw her arms around him and pulled him close, many times whispering suggestions that would leave him breathless and blushing he would have to remind himself that he was just a job. Each time they'd have a movie night at Casa Bartowski and she'd spend the night cuddled with him, he'd spend the whole time both hating and loving the Intersect, cursing Bryce Larkin for the bundle of contradictions that he'd been responsible for inflicting on his life.

"It's my title, Chuck, but it's not who I am. I thought you knew me better than that" she said while leaning closer and tugging at his tie, straightening it and then pulling it to the side and then straightening it again, her eyes flitting from his tie to his eyes and then back again. "Is something wrong, Chuck? You've been acting so strangely, ever since I had to tell you that the new Intersect had exploded and you weren't through with the government after all."

"Well, that was a shock" Chuck shot back, not bothering to add that having the news delivered by a 'goddess' wearing underwear that wasn't really there had been the best and worst way to find out that the powers that be weren't through with him. The sight of her, standing in front of him as he gathered up the shards of glass that the shattered beer bottle had left on his floor, had very nearly blown his mind, the unplanned clenching of his fists had resulted in the network of scar tissue that now covered the palm of his right hand. Glancing down, he thought again about the way his hand had tickled when Ellie had finally removed the stitches, pronouncing him healed after almost three weeks. He was sure the stitches could have been removed earlier but his sister had insisted that they remain in until he'd finally threatened to remove them himself.

"Chuck, are you mad at me about something? Have I done something wrong?"

"What? Why would you ask that?" he asked, both confused and a little worried. The last thing he needed was his handler worried about his behavior, watching him with an increased level of scrutiny. His list was coming together and his plans were almost ready to launch, just a few more weeks and he'd be ready.

"Well, because you don't seem to want to spend time with me, Chuck" Sarah spoke in a whisper as she reached out a hand and gently stroked the line of his jaw. "And you're spending so much time playing that video game, whatever it is. What is it, World of Wartcrap or something Bergs or whatever it is that seems to take up so much of your time."

"It's World of Warcraft or Angry Birds" Chuck managed to correct the woman standing in front of him, the air conditioning in the store and the new work outfit for the Orange Orange combining to do their best to distract him. "I think it's adorable that you don't have a nerdy bone in your body" he added, purposely avoiding a direct answer, not wanting to tell Sarah about the game Morgan had discovered and he was now playing with an almost religious zeal.

He remembered his best friend's excitement about finding a new online game that offered a strangely addictive combination of hide and seek and weapons. According to his bearded buddy, the game had been developed by two former CIA operatives who had originally hoped to create a training tool for their employers but had decided to take it online after their bosses laughed at the idea of a video game actually being used to help train agents. In less than five weeks, the game, '_Run For Your Life_' had become an honest to goodness sensation with thousands of people 'becoming' spies.

Chuck had been skeptical when Morgan had first described the premise but within two hours after playing the free demo, he was signed up and addicted. The game offered players the choice of running or hunting or, was often the case, a combination of the two. Once he'd established his 'cover' identity, he'd spent time at the virtual 'Farm', learning from his pixilated instructors the art of establishing a cover identity and then taking that identity 'off the grid' so one could hunt down fellow players or, as he'd taken to, hiding from other 'hunters' who wanted to sanction him.

'Yeah right, Morgan. The SIMS meet the CIA' he remembered teasing his oldest friend, trying to not laugh at the hurt look on his face. 'Alright, I'll give it a try' he'd said and that, as they say, was that. He remembered watching as his hetero life partner bounced from one foot to another while he logged onto the **'**_RFYL' _website that first time, his bandaged hand hampering his typing ability but not making it impossible.

In the four weeks since he'd chosen his cover identity, he'd been spending a surprising amount of time, learning the ins and outs of going off the grid and staying there. In fact, _John Walker_ had become surprisingly adept at staying off the radar and often found himself wishing Casey or Sarah could see him at 'work', sure they'd be impressed with his burgeoning skills. He'd toyed with the idea of turning his handlers onto the game, fairly confident that they'd enjoy challenge but decided to keep quiet, not sure how they might respond to the knowledge that he was becoming adept at avoiding 'agents' who were searching for him.

"Well, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to put a nerdy bone in my body" Sarah whispered into Chuck's ear, jarring him from the wool gathering he'd just been in the middle of.

Uh…what?" Chuck somehow managed to stammer out, sure that his face was a deep shade of red. Reaching up, he hooked a finger into his collar and tugged, sure that his sudden difficulty breathing was a direct result of Sarah's adjustment of his tie, just moments earlier.

"I said…" Sarah started to speak only to be interrupted by a harsh voice from behind them.

"Bartowski! Am I paying you to sit around and play kissey face with your girlfriend?" Big Mike barked as he waddled towards them, a half-eaten bear claw grasped in one hand and a small stack of papers in the other. "Damn right I don't! Now, I need you to make sure all of Jeff and Lester's paperwork is in order and then…"

"Why do I have to make sure that Jeff and Lester's paperwork is…?"

"Because I told you to, Bartowski. It's part of the assistant Manager's responsibilities and…"

"And I'm not the assistant manager" Chuck interrupted the big man, his voice soft but steel hard. "You're not paying me to be the assistant manager and, to be honest Big Mike, I'm getting a little tired of doing everything an assistant manager does, plus a lot of stuff that a manager should be doing" he said, gently moving Sarah to the side and after taking a moment to log off of his computer, getting to his feet to stare into his bosses eyes, "so maybe we should re-think this whole 'Chuck working for the Buymore' thing because, to be honest, you need me but I'm feeling less than appreciated" he said, taking a step closer to a suddenly dumbstruck manager, " and maybe I should take that offer from Large Mart. I'm going to take my lunch break, Big Mike and then I'm going to take the rest of the afternoon off" he finished and then moved to step around a still speechless manager.

"Now just a minute, Bartowski. I don't think…"

"That's the problem, Big Mike, you don't think. Now, consider this…if you think I'm not going to lunch with my girlfriend and then planning to spend the afternoon with her, playing kissey-face as you so elegantly put it, you really could have a problem because I really wouldn't miss this place at all" Chuck said before taking Sarah's hand and pulling her towards the front door.

"Bartowski!" Big Mike yelled after him and suddenly fell silent.

Chuck looked back over his shoulder and found John Casey standing next to his 'civilian' boss, one of his big hands on the other man's shoulders, speaking into the man's ear. A quick glance also told him that every other employee who was on the floor, along with several customers, were watching as he walked out the door with his arm around Sarah's waist.

"So, Chuck, you're going to take me to lunch and then we're going to spend the afternoon playing kissey-face?" Sarah asked after the automatic doors had slid closed behind them.

"Of course I would never assume to tell you what we're going to do this afternoon, Agent Walker and…ow!" Chuck cried out, rubbing his shoulder where he'd just been punched. "What the hell?"

"Stop calling me Agent Walker, Chuck" Sarah responded, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, her feet carrying her directly towards her Porsche. "It's a good thing I can pretty much set my own hours now that the CIA is the actual owner of my cover employer. So, Chuck, what are we going to do with our afternoon?" she asked.

"Well, I thought I'd go down to the comic book store and after picking up a few books, I'd head down to the beach and kick back for a few hours" Chuck answered, he feet and their destination taking him away from Sarah's side and towards the Nerdherder that was his usual mode of transportation."

"And what am I supposed to do, Chuck? Sit around, twiddling my fingers while you're off being a…"

"A what, Sarah? A nerd? It's what I am, you know that" he shot out, the keys to the Nerdherder dangling from his fingers as he stared at his handler.

"No, an asshole who hasn't been paying enough attention to his girlfriend" she shot back, turning and stomping over to where he stood, stepping into his personal space and staring into his eyes, her blue eyes flashing with anger.

"Well, Agent Walker" Chuck hissed back, stressing the words in an effort to remind that she was 'on the job', "what exactly is this 'asshole of a boyfriend' expected to do. I certainly don't want to do anything that doesn't fit your description of the perfect mark/boyfriend, now do I?" Before he could move, Sarah's right hand came out of nowhere, the sound of the slap reaching his brain just a moment before the sudden, almost blinding, blast of pain hit.

Reaching an arm back, Chuck used the small car behind him to keep from falling, his knees threatening to buckle and leave him sprawled on the asphalt of the parking lot. He felt his eyes tearing up and lifted a hand to gently touch the side of his face that felt like it might be on fire.

"Chuck, I'm so sorry" Sarah whispered in a voice filled with hurt and regret. Taking a step towards, she started to lift her own hand, wanting to touch the damage she'd just inflicted. She was about to say something else when one of Burbank's finest rolled to a stop a couple of feet away.

"Are you alright, sir?' the officer behind the wheel asked, already opening the cruiser's door and starting to climb out. "Please step away form him" the voice asked, leaving no doubt that the request wasn't open to debate.

"That's not really necessary, officer" Sarah said, her eyes never leaving Chucks'.

"I don't remember asking you, miss. I simply asked you to step away from the young man."

Sarah turned, ready to put the unknown officer into her place when she froze, her mouth dropping open. She couldn't believe that anyone, let alone a brown eyed brunette, could look so good in a polyester uniform and bullet proof vest. Before she could figure out what to say, the officer stepped to the side so she could get a better look at Chuck.

Are you alright, sir?" the officer repeated her question and after making brief eye contact with her partner, moved around Sarah stepped closer to Chuck. "Would you like to press charges?"

"What?" Sarah barked out, stunned by the absurdity of the situation. "You can't be serious" she declared, taking a step towards Chuck but freezing at the sound of a safety be clicked off. Turning her head, she found the officer's partner leveling her Glock at her. "You have got to be kidding me" Sarah muttered under her breath as she shook her head, wondering how everything had managed to spin so completely out of control in such a short time.

"Would you like to press charges?" the officer asked again, lifting her hand to gently stroke the side of his face before dropping it back to her belt, pulling out a small pad that she flipped open with a practiced ease. Puling a pen from her breast pocket, she glanced back again to make sure that her partner had things under control before looking back to Chuck.

"Your name sir?" she asked, her hand gripping the pen, poised to write down everything she learned.

"Uh, Chu…Charles Irving Bartowski. Officer, this really isn't necessary. Sarah…"

"Chuck, uh, that's what your name tag says so I'm guessing that you prefer Chuck, right?"

"Yeah, Chuck's fine."

"So, Chuck, the name of the woman who attacked you is Sarah. Do you know why she struck you?"

"It was my fault, Officer. I uh, said something and she reacted without thinking and…"

"She hit you because of something you said?" the brunette asked, turning a disbelieving look towards the blonde who appeared to be less than happy about the situation. Before she could say anything else, her two-way radio came to life. Stepping away a few feet, she turned her back and after a short conversation, she turned back to face Chuck and Sarah.

"You seem to have friends in high places" the officer said, obviously unhappy with whatever she'd been told. Stepping closer to Chuck, she pulled a card from her pocket and offered it to him. "If you have any problems or just want someone to talk to, call me anytime, ok Chuck?" she instructed him, her eyes leaving no doubt that she'd welcome a phone call, anytime he wanted to call. Turning to leave, she paused near Sarah. "Violence is never the answer" she said before nodding towards her partner and then climbing back into the patrol car.

Sarah watched as the car slowly pulled away, torn between her desire to smack the skanky brunette who'd been using her badge to flirt with Chuck and her need to make Chuck understand that she didn't mean to hit him, that she never wanted to hurt him. Before she could say a word, John Casey's deep voice called across the parking lot.

"Walker, a word" the big man called.

"Just a minute, Casey" she answered after turning to look towards her partner.

"Now, Walker!" the burly NSA Agent commanded, his arms crossed over his chest and his tapping foot leaving no doubt that she didn't have a choice. She turned back to ask Chuck to wait just a minute only to find that he'd already slid into the Nerdherder and was about to start the vehicle and pull away.

"Leave him be" Casey called at her, using a finger to tap at his watch, plainly indicating that they could monitor him thanks to his watch. "We need to have a talk" he explained, nodding towards the Orange Orange and waiting until Sarah started walking in his direction before turning and heading towards the small store that served as the main entrance to Castle.

Confused and worried, Sarah paused as Chuck drove past her and she suddenly felt ill when he didn't even acknowledge her standing only a foot away.

"Let's go, Walker" Casey called from just outside the front door of the 'double 'O'.

"Yeah, yeah" she muttered under her breath, "I'll talk to Chuck later" she told herself, not realizing that her definition of 'later' was about to be put to a rather extreme test.

**A/N:2 **So, thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: ATTENTION…ATTENTION…THIS IS NOT A COMPLETE CHAPTER! I was on a roll for about an hour earlier and then…the bottom fell out here at Tire Paradise…we got our asses handed to us…I will finish this very soon but I wanted to post this because Justmyluckiness threatened me with lots of unmentionable stuff if I didn't update this story…and then there were tears…lots and lots of tears…so here ya go…if you like this little bit, let me know…if not, let me know… JT**

**Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski - Chapter 3**

Sarah Walker sat on the edge of her bed, staring down at the small blinking dot on the display of her phone. The dot hadn't moved in almost forty hours and according to Ellie, that was to be expected. She'd be the first to admit that she didn't understand the appeal of playing an online video game for forty-eight hours straight but she understood that Chuck loved the game and that should have been good enough for her but, for some reason it hadn't been and now she was stuck with an image that she didn't think even brain bleach would totally remove.

She smiled as she remembered her nerd telling her about seeing his sister and the 'Captain' in the shower, in all their glory.

'My nerd?' she asked herself, wondering just when she'd started thinking of Chuck as hers and, more importantly, when she was going to get the courage to explain this 'ownership' to him. Thinking about finally telling Chuck that he was hers brought her back to the memory of sneaking over to Morgan's place earlier that night and the sight that would forever haunt her.

In her years as an agent she'd been subjected to many sights that still held a place in her memory but, thanks to her training, she was able to compartmentalize those memories so they weren't on constant display. The slight flush of pride she felt when she thought of her ability to store away the images that might haunt people who lacked her training and willpower was swept brutally away when the memory of what she'd witnessed earlier came crashing back into her mind, crushing and sweeping away all other recent images, leaving her with the same horrible taste in her mouth that had been leaving her on the edge of nausea since she'd looked through Morgan's window.

If only Chuck had been there and she found the 'hetero life mates' playing Halo as Chuck had told his sister he'd be doing for the weekend. She still wished Chuck would have told her himself but, ever since the slap in the parking lot, she'd been tentative about talking to him. Casey had insisted that she accompany him into Castle while Chuck drove away without making eye contact with her and by the time she'd finished assuring her partner that she wasn't compromised, the object of their discussion had managed to go home, get changed and then return the Nerdherder to it's customary parking place.

Looking back down at the blinking dot on her phone she cursed under her breath, wondering why Chuck had left his watch and phone at the Morgan's. Chuck wasn't a forgetful sort but that was the only thing that she could imagine happening, telling herself that he was probably overly tired from forty non-stop hours of online gaming and had left without the objects that she had been hoping to use to track him.

Shaking her head to try and clear the thoughts of what she'd found when she'd gone to 'Casa Grimes' looking for Chuck, she got to her feet and, after grabbing the keys to her beloved Porsche, opened the front door and walked out, hoping that the quick trip to Casey's might help banish the mental image that was still hammering away at the edges of her mind. As she stood waiting for the elevator, her mind drifted and the image slid back in, causing her to shudder. 'He just had both his hands on his Wii game controller, under the covers, playing some game that required a lot of up and down wrist motion, some kind of Sponge Bob game…' she tried telling herself as the mental picture she'd taken through Morgan's window made the headache, that she'd been nursing for hours, ratchet the pain up another notch.

The loud ding that signaled the arrival of the elevator allowed Sarah to clamp a lid on the image that had been haunting her and she stepped into the empty car, stabbing at the button that would bring her to the lobby. Less than two minutes later, she was behind the wheel of her midnight blue dream machine and accelerating towards Casey's apartment, hoping her partner would have an update on Chuck's location. Maybe the NSA's cameras would reveal Chuck, asleep in his room, and she happily tolerate the older man's teasing comments about her need to watch the unconscious nerd and, if she was really lucky, the object of her desires would be wearing little or no sleep wear.

Losing herself to thoughts of a naked Chuck, the sound of a car horn snapped her back to reality and she looked around, surprised that she was sitting at an intersection that was just a couple of blocks from 'Chuck central', the motorist behind her obviously unhappy about her sitting through a green light while lost in her thoughts of a nude asset. Without a glance backwards she flipped the driver behind her a one fingered salute and dropped the Porsche into gear and sped through the now red light, not bothering to check the other directions, sure that her 'get out of jail free' badge was all she needed to ignore local traffic laws.

Before reaching the other side of the intersection, red and blue flashing lights appeared behind her and before she could begin to pull over, the sound of a siren split the evening air. "Just great" Sarah mumbled to herself, her hand automatically reaching for the front of her shirt, ready to pop a button or two so she could 'flirt' her way out of a ticket. "Fuck!" she blurted out when she realized she was wearing one of Chuck's t-shirts and had no way to 'enhance' the view of the 'girls', her usual go to maneuver when trying to 'distract' a man. Before she could figure out a new strategy, the sound of a flashlight tapping against her window made her turn to see who had pulled her over. "You have got to be shitting me" she muttered to herself when she recognized the uniformed brunette who was now standing beside her car with a smirk on her face.

"License and registration, please."

"Just a minute, officer" Sarah replied, rolling her window down while reaching for her phone.

"License and registration, ma'am!"

"Yeah, just a minute while I make this call" Sarah answered without looking up from her phone.

"Ma'am, hang up the phone and step out of the vehicle, now!"

"You can't be serious" she replied, looking up from her phone to find herself staring down the barrel of a Glock service pistol.

"Very serious, ma'am. Now, before my partner is forced to call for back up, please hang up your phone and step out of the vehicle with your license and registration."

"I understand why you need my license and registration but why, exactly, am I getting out of my vehicle?"

"Well, when you ran that red light, I believe I saw your vehicle swerve and I'm going to have you take a roadside sobriety test, just to make sure that you haven't been drinking this evening.


	4. Chapter 4Chap35  ok, it's Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hey gang, look who's back with the rest of **Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartow ski - Chapter 3**, as promised. I guess that makes this Chapter 3.5 even though it's listed as Chapter 4...unless, you'll all forgive the shortiosity of Chapter 3 and just decide to call this chapter 4. Enough babbling. Remember, I don't own any of the characters created for the television show Chuck and I'm not making any money doing this…even though some individuals actually got paid to write some of that Shaw dreck and…calm down, old man, take a deep breath and remember that you're still having fun doing this (THANK YOU, JIM) and last but not leased, still not using a beta although I often wake up smiling at the thought of those of you with better control of grammar and spelling tearing your hair out as you read my scribbles. Thanks to all who have favorited, alerted or gone the extra mile and taken the time to share your thoughts by leaving a review. **JT**

**Previously in RFYL,CB-Chapter 3**

"Very serious, ma'am. Now, before my partner is forced to call for back up, please hang up your phone and step out of the vehicle with your license and registration."

"I understand why you need my license and registration but why, exactly, am I getting out of my vehicle?"

"Well, when you ran that red light, I believe I saw your vehicle swerve and I'm going to have you take a roadside sobriety test, just to make sure that you haven't been drinking this evening.

…**and now, on to Chapter 3.5(ok, ok, call it 4)**

"You've got to be kidding me, Officer, uh, …" Sarah exclaimed while taking a closer look at the small placard that had the officer's name and badge number, "…Officer Beckett. And, while we're at it, why do you have your weapon drawn for a traffic stop?" Sarah asked as she slowly climbed out of her car after retrieving her registration and ID from the cars center console.

"I'm afraid I don't have much of a sense of humor, at least not when on duty, so, no, I'm not kidding you. As for the weapon, well, after the last time we met and someone high up pulled some strings, really hard, well, I decided I wanted to learn all I could about the woman who seemed to have friends who don't mind her beating up her boyfriend. I tried to run your name through our data base and, surprise surprise, I got a call warning me to quit asking questions about Sarah Walker. I did…luckily, my friend in the DOJ didn't get that call, not until after doing me a favor and finding out that you're CIA."

"You should've stayed out of my business" Sarah replied with a hint of exasperation in her voice. "So, I guess I'll just show you my shield and I'll be on my way."

"No ma'am, I'm afraid not. You'll have to pass my roadside sobriety test and then, after I've written you several costly tickets, I'll have your car towed because I'm still unsure about your ability to drive. Of course, once I get back to the station and file my report, I'm sure that I'll get a call and maybe a slap on the wrist but my dash cam, despite the sound being on the fritz, will show me doing my job and my partner will back me up."

"And you're doing this because you have the hots for my boyfriend" Sarah asked with a smirk, sure that she'd finally figured out the reason for the 'bad cop' treatment she was receiving.

"No, Miss Walker" the Officer replied, taking the offered ID and paperwork from Sarah's hand and signaling for her partner to take over while she turned back towards her patrol car, I don't have the 'hots' for your boyfriend. Maybe you didn't notice but I saw the surprise, hurt and fear in his eyes and that, Miss Walker, is why I'm doing this…and because I think you're a bitch" she finished over her shoulder before holstering her weapon and sliding into his cruiser.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Agent Sarah Walker was fuming when she climbed out of the passenger side of Casey's Crown Vic, slamming the door with more force than necessary and earning a wicked stinkeye for her effort. Without saying a word, she stomped off towards her partner's apartment, doing her best to ignore the chuckle that followed her as she crossed the apartment complex's courtyard, silently swearing to whip a certain brunette's ass the first chance she got.

She still couldn't believe that she'd been left without a ride, grudgingly grateful to Officer Beckett's partner who handed her the cel phone that she'd been unable to retrieve from the front seat of her Porsche, having been forced to stand by as her beloved automobile had been loaded onto a rollback and then hauled away. She'd somehow resisted the urge to offer the law officers the traditional one fingered salute as they'd pulled away, grinding her teeth as she hit the speed dial for the NSA agent who she was sure would tease her mercilessly for losing her ride, not to mention the handful of tickets she would now have to have the agency take care of.

"Forget something , Walker?" Casey's voice asked from behind her. Turning around she found just what she expected to find, the big man, standing there with her tickets clutched in his hand and a shit eating grin on his face. "Looks like our boy's new girlfriend doesn't like you much."

"That isn't Chuck's new girlfriend" Sarah blurted out, snatching the handful of paper from Casey, "and I don't give a shit if she likes me or not" she added before grabbing the door knob and with a quick turn, flinging Casey's front door open and storming inside.

"There's no need to be so touchy, Walker. I'm sure the nerd can't help the fact that law enforcement agents seem, for whatever godforsaken reason, to find the moron desirable. First you…"

"Shut up, Casey!"

"…and then devil's mistress, Carina, and now Officer 'HotzforChuck' of the LAPD."

"SHUT UP, CASEY!"

"Maybe the government should actually hire him to help turn female agents from foreign super powers like he did with that 'Chicom' last year…or I could make a little extra money pimping him out to lonely and desperate agents of the US government…"

"Casey, shut the fuck up or I'll kick your ass…again!" Sarah hissed while tapping away at the keyboard of the of his laptop.

"You know, Walker, I hear you offering a whole lot of 'shut ups' and not a single 'no, Casey, I'm not compromised'. Maybe you should be thinking about asking for a reassignment before your 'lady feelings' get the moron killed."

"Casey, if Chuck's at work, why aren't you?"

"What, changing the subject?"

"No, Casey, I'm just ignoring your idiotic babbling while trying to do my job. Why aren't you at work?"

"Because numbnuts is off today. I was there before getting your call and Bartowski isn't working today although the bearded half of the dipshit twins is."

"Then why are Chuck's wallet, phone and watch all at the Buymore?" Sarah asked, stepping aside so Casey could see the blinking dot on the monitor that indicated that their asset was at the Buymore.

"Move it" Casey grumbled, shouldering his way past his partner and, with a few key strokes, had pulled up all of the cameras that kept every inch of his cover employer under constant surveillance. After tapping his way through all of the different cameras, he started again, spending a little more time with each view until he happened across the camera that he'd recently installed in Jeff's 'office', the handicapped restroom stall that the drunk had claimed as his own and often used for purposes that it was never designed or intended for.

"OH MY GOD, Casey! Is that Greta Van Sustern porn?" Sarah's unsteady voice asked from over his shoulder, the sound of her voice leaving no doubt that she was as sickened and repulsed as he was.

"That's nothing, Walker. Jeff watches lesbian, midget, clown porn and Morgan…"

"Sponge Bob animated porn?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?"

"You don't want to know, Casey, you don't want to know. Ok, getting past the ickyness, if Chuck's not at the Buymore, where is he?"

"He should be at home. I seem to recall hearing him singing in the shower this morning, before I got your call. Maybe he has date with Officer 'tight uniform'?"

"Shut up, Casey!" Sarah barked at him, giving his right ear a vicious thump before leaning over to watch as the surveillance for Casa Bartowski was pulled up. After cycling through the different views of the apartment…three times with the same 'no asset here' result, both agents seemed to pick the exact moment to give each other very similar versions of their 'what the fuck is going on?' face.

"Let's move it, Casey" Sarah spoke first, turning and practically sprinting towards the front door, tucking the thick stack of tickets into her rear pocket as she moved.

"Wanna bail out your ride before or after?" the big man asked, on his feet and moving to follow after logging off and keying the security password into his computer. He knew that no one could break into his apartment, let alone into his computer but old habits die hard.

"Once we know where Chu…the asset is, then we'll arrange to pick up Esmerelda."

"You named your car? Really?"

"Oh right, Casey. Like I've never heard you whispering to Betty while you stroked the wax into the shiny black paint after spending nearly an hour washing that beast. Black Betty, really? I never pictured you for a Ram Jam fan."

"Listen, Walker, never speak of my Crown Vic's name or theme song and I'll never show you exactly what 'Bam A Lam' really means" the NSA agent spit out, cracking his knuckles as he grabbed his keys from the small table beside the door. "Let's go find your moron."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Sarah looked up from her laptop when she heard Casey coming down the stairs into Castle. After cycling through the cameras at Casa Bartowski and getting the same result as the last fourteen times she'd done the same thing, she logged off and turned to watch her partner as he stepped off the last step and turn towards her.

"Where is he, Casey?"

"The bearded gnome swears that Bartowski left his house this morning, talking about going home and taking a shower and a nap."

"What about his 'stuff' being at the Buymore?"

"I couldn't ask the little twerp why he has Chuck's wallet, watch and phone in his locker, could I?"

"They're there?"

"Yeah, sitting right there. I thought about grabbing them but figured it would be best to just let them sit. If they move, we'll know. Now, I'm guessing you've been busy checking all of the cameras at the boy toy's place and since you're not smiling, where do we look next, Walker?"

"I'm going to go check the arcade on the pier and then the beach. Maybe you should go check the comic book store?" Sarah suggested and realized that Casey was actually taking things pretty seriously when he didn't complain about the possibility of picking up 'geek germs' or suggest he download a 'nerdy places to visit in Burbank' app into his phone. "Mind dropping me off at the LAPD impound yard?"

"Not a problem, let's go. We've got a nerd to find" Casey replied with a serous look on his face.

"Thanks, Casey" Sarah responded, grateful that the older man seemed to have given up teasing her about 'stuff.

"If we haven't found him by six o'clock, we're going to have to call the General…"

"I understand"

"Unless Bartowski has developed a taste for cougars and he's sweet talking Diane, even as we speak…that would suck for you, losing your boyfriend to your boss.."

"Shut the fuck up, Casey" Sarah grumbled back, sure that her partner was smiling behind her back, "besides, wouldn't you feel a little strange, having to call Chuck dad, if he and your 'mom' decide to get married?"

"Shut the fuck up, Walker. Let's go get your car so we can get to work."

**A/N :Part Deux…**next time, where is Chuck and, more importantly, what is Sponge Bob animated porn really like…trust me, you'll be sorry you asked!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **I know it's been a while between scribbles and for that I apologize. Thank you to all who've alerted, favorited or, even cooler, taken some of the valuable private time to review any of my stories…THANK YOU! I also have to apologize for not responding to reviews as much as I used to and once again can't offer any excuses except an odd mixture of writer's block and laziness. I have to mention the following stories and/or authors that have really caught my attention…and of course I'll also apologize to the ones I'll forget to mention…Quistie64, Dettiot, Justmyluckiness, PJMurphy, ninjaVanish, Thinkling, Beckettbynight, Longlivechuck, AliceHermoine, Powerslide, Thereisanother, Khyeew,Thepretender91, Chuckaddict,Littlecandyman,Mia2009…and of course I can't forget the fabulous finish to the epic 'Fates' from Frea and the return of, for however long we're lucky enough to have him, Oldestman. I also want to thank the authors who've taken the time to add to The Sarah Walker:Broken Beyond Repair Challenge…Aerox, Uplink2, Michael66, Chuckreader and Ltsheppard(making his stunning debut to ChuckFF). Finally, I remain beta free and if you ever needed a sign of possible mental damage, there you go. I'm still having fun, just not hitting the keyboard as much as I'd like so, thanks Jim…can't believe it's been as long as it has since you checked out, you crotchety old bastard…I miss your scribbles. As always, your thoughts about my mucking about with characters from the show Chuck(which I don't own and for which I deservedly receive no compensation, are always welcome. Good or bad, they all help. **JT**

**Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski - Chapter 5**

Chuck hit the send icon on his laptop and caught himself mid-sigh as he thought about Ellie's reaction to the email he'd just sent her. It had been almost seventy-two hours since he'd left for his 'weekend-getaway' with Sarah and the fact that his sister hadn't called meant that she hadn't crossed paths with his 'girlfriend' which would have blown his cover. He felt himself smiling at the memory of Morgan's reaction to his plea for help with 'going off grid' for the weekend, neglecting to mention that his mini-vacation wasn't actually a real world extension of the 'Run For Your Life' game but was the first step in his own 'escape'.

Thinking about the game prompted him to log on to his RFYL account and check on the status of his John Walker character. Moments later he found himself struggling to keep from laughing out loud when he found that two of his 'enemies' from the game, _Chas57 _and _Chukgun92 _had fallen for a false trail he'd left and had found themselves on the receiving end of a vicious virtual beating from a hulking 'freelance merc' from Texas who went by the screen name of _Oldestman _who'd 'ambushed' the two in a kids style pizza parlor and beaten them to 'death' with the virtual mallet from a 'Whack-a-mole' game.

Sometimes the details of the _RFYL _game were incredibly detailed and Chuck was grateful that Morgan had found the game because he was sure his only hope of staying out of the hands of a government that seemed to care nothing for him was using what he'd learned in the virtual world. Checking the RFYL feedback section and reading the 'Tips & Hints' pages had given him the knowledge to set up several false identities besides his John Walker persona, going so far as to create actual back histories for the new identities that were incredibly real looking, at least as far as electronic research would show. He'd even managed to get actual drivers licenses, passports and other forms of id for the new 'people' he might have to become. The cost had been pretty steep but he was sure that the quality of the ids would pass all but the strictest of inspections by highly trained professionals .

He remembered the ease with which he'd been able to rent a car with his John Walker drivers license and credit cards, the first test of his source's work. The young woman behind the counter had smiled while checking everything before handing him the keys to the Mustang he'd driven to San Diego. Leaving the vehicle in the parking garage at Horton Plaza, he'd cabbed it to the airport where he'd bought a one way ticket to San Francisco for later in the week, making sure that he smiled at the cameras that he was sure were recording every transaction that occurred at the counter he was leaning against. Having left a Chuck Bartowski trail, he hit the restroom and, after pulling on a wig, inserting a set of false bucked teeth, applying two temporary tattoos to his forearms and putting in a pair of blue contact lenses, made his way to the Thrifty counter and rented a car using one of his back up identities. Once again he'd been thrilled with the ease with which his new identity had been accepted and after thanking the young woman when she'd handed him the keys to the car he'd rented, he took the next step in the journey that he hoped would lead him off the grid.

The drive to Galveston, Texas, had been trouble free, even with three more car and identity changes. Each time he'd left the rental car in a parking lot, not worried about the charges that would be racking up on the credit cards he'd used because he'd taken great pains to make sure that the funds for the cards were actually 'borrowed' from a NSA slush fund he'd discovered when he first started hacking the agencies database. Using his own natural talent with computers, he'd twisted and turned his various identities through numerous government databases, secretly pleased with the knowledge that it would take a really talented hacker days, if not weeks, to get to the bottom of his new 'names'. He almost wished he'd be able to see the look on General Diane Beckman's face when some hacker finally reached the end of the trail and found out that the person behind the John walker, Charles Carmichael and several other ids was someone named Seymore Heinie.

The sound of sea gulls screeching brought him back to his present and Chuck looked around, searching for potential threats, something he'd never imagined himself doing but, thanks to the game, something he believed he'd become adept at. Of course, he hadn't actually found any real threats but he was sure that his situational awareness had improved since he started playing RFYL and he stood a good chance of spotting any trouble before it could get too close to him. While he was assigning threat levels to all of the tourists that were strolling along the boardwalk and chuckling to himself when he couldn't figure out what threat level to give a young mother who was pushing a tandem stroller that held two screaming babies, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket and he quickly looked around for the closest place that would offer him a quite place to talk Morgan since he was the only person who had the number to the burner phone he'd purchased at a 7-11 he'd stopped at before leaving San Diego.

"Yeah, Morgan, what's happening?" Chuck asked after finding his way to a small, deserted picnic pavilion that was set back a short distance from the main area of the public park.

"Just wanted to check and see how you were doing in the competition" Morgan answered, obviously still believing that his best friend had been invited to a RFYL real world gathering and the strange instructions he'd received were only part of his best friends attempts to do well in the contest.

"Made it to the final round and gonna have to cut this short because I think that weasel from down under is closing in. I'll call you as soon as I know how things wrap up. Remember, tell no one…"

"Unless it's Ellie, right?"

"Yeah, unless it's Ellie. Gotta go, buddy. Talk to you soon." Chuck finished and then pocketed the phone while shifting his back-pack so the straps rode easier on his shoulders.

"Well, time to hit the road again" he mumbled to himself as he started towards the parking lot, ready to resume his meandering eastwards journey, still not sure of a final destination or even if he'd ever to be able to actually stay anywhere for an extended time. He knew that once Casey and Sarah and, by extension, the NSA, learned of his 'vacation', the search for their precious Intersect would become white hot and he'd have to kick his avoidance plans into high gear. He wasn't sure he'd be able to drop completely off the grid and he knew that, sooner or later, he'd be run to ground but he hoped he could maybe avoid the net for a while. Thinking about the reality of the computer in his head, he knew that although some of the information might become obsolete, there was too much information between his ears that didn't have a expiration date and because of that, they'd never let him go. The big question that had resulted in lots of lost sleep was at what point did the search and recovery mission become a search and destroy mission. When did he become more of a liability than an asset and who would end up with the order to put him down. He really hoped it wouldn't be Casey or Sarah but he was enough of a realist to know that he probably wouldn't see whoever ended up pulling the trigger.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Exactly seventy-three hours after leaving Casa Bartowski, his burner phone rang and he answered, hoping he was wrong but pretty sure that Morgan wasn't on the other end despite the number that appeared on the display of his burner.

"Hey Morgan, what's…"

"Where the hell are you, Chuck?" Sarah's panicked voice asked, confirming that his head start was officially over and he was now officially running from his partners and whoever else was destined to be added to the search.

"Hi, Agent Walker. Please tell me you didn't say anything to Morgan when you 'asked' him questions about my where abouts?"

"We haven't talked to the bearded troll…yet" Casey's voice growled out of the small speaker, leaving no doubt that the call was on speakerphone, probably down in Castle. "This unscheduled and unapproved vacation is over! As long as you're sitting in some motel in San Diego, waiting for that flight to San Francisco...that is never gonna happen, and you're still there when we come to pick you up, there won't be any need to question the moron."

"So, Agent Walker, how did you get Morgan's phone?" Chuck asked, ignoring Casey's threats while pulling the rental car he was driving, to the side of the highway.

"Really, numbnuts? Didn't you learn anything while we were babysitting you?" Casey's voice seemed to sneer at him through the phone.

"Well, Major, I'm guessing that you cloned his phone and right now you and Agent Walker are sitting in Castle, hoping I'll stay on the line long enough to triangulate my position. Well, check the map, I'll wait" Chuck replied, a small smile playing about his lips as he thought about Casey's reaction when he found out that his burner phone was actually in seventeen places at once, including a scientific research center near the south pole and the MARS Lander, currently sitting behind a rather large boulder as a Martian windstorm raged around it.

"Chuck, why?" Sarah asked, the confusion in her voice actually making him wonder, just a little, about his decision.

"Because I really don't want Casey putting a bullet in my brain because the government finally builds an Intersect that doesn't blow up…"

"Chuck, I've talked with General Beckman and she realizes that you are the Intersect" Sarah replied with just a hint of desperation in her voice as she put the emphasis on 'you'. "You're safe, Chuck. Please , just come home."

"So, Agent Walker, have you been ordered to change tactics? Changing from the 'stick' to the 'carrot'? Is that why you've been so 'nice' lately?"

"What? No, I…" Sarah stuttered

"What the hell, Bartowski?" John Casey's voice drowned out whatever Sarah may have been about to say. "How the fuck did you get to Mars?"

"Alright, you caught me, I'm not on Mars" Chuck answered with a chuckle. "I'm probably at one of the other locations…maybe. Listen, I'd love to keep chatting about how important the Intersect is and what each of you is willing to do to keep me happy but I'm getting hungry so I'm going to wrap this up. Gotta go…hey, wait, is that a penguin?" Chuck asked before hitting the disconnect and tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, imagining the look on his former handlers faces.

'Next stop, the nearest Buymore for a new Iphone" Chuck told himself as he restarted the car and, after checking the traffic, pulled back onto the freeway. Once he'd gotten back into the flow of the highway he started going down his mental checklist of the 'stuff' he'd need to make his next phone into an untraceable communication tool.

His head start was over. Casey, Sarah and the rest of the government would be soon be on his trail and he really hoped all of the things he'd learned from '_Run For Your Life' _would help keep him ahead of all the people who had nothing but his 'best interests' at heart. He'd call Ellie later and explain about the email, telling her what he could without telling her enough to put her in danger but he knew he was on his own…for as long as he could stay a step or two ahead.

"Run for your life, Chuck Bartowski" he mumbled to himself.

_**Thoughts?**_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Yeah, it's been a while, I know. Been fighting with the 'blockage' that just won't go away…and living life. Somehow managed to get this micro-chapter out…and wanted to post it before I lost it…just to see if it matches the tone from earlier chapters…your thoughts would be greatly appreciated…yeah, yeah…begging you to hit that review thingie. Don't own Chuck or any of the characters from the show…don't make any money doing this and, believe it or not, despite my lack of output lately, I still have fun writing…I just gotta do more of it. Iwill add to this soon…no, really, I will…not a promise, just an honest desire. Thanks to APR for getting me started down this path…I miss ya, you wascally old wabbit. _**JT**_

**Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski - Chapter 6**

Sarah Walker was sliding into the fifty-fourth hour of the most nerve racking three days of her life. Not only had she spent an in-ordinate amount of time having her ass chewed out by both her boss and Casey's, she'd also made a round trip to San Diego that she was sure would've qualified her for some land speed record, if such things were actually listed somewhere. Her partner, the big tough NSA agent had spent the entire trip with his eyes wide-open and his hands clutching at the edges of the bucket seat he was plastered against the back of. She could swear she'd even heard him whimper when she'd passed to the right of the 'break-down' lane, the sound of the roadside debris rattling against the car's undercarriage serving as a reminder that she really shouldn't be using the side of the highway as a passing lane, especially when she was traveling in excess of one hundred and sixty miles an hour.

The coffee she'd been fueling her panic with ever since the realization that Chuck had decided to take an 'un-authorized vacation', she still couldn't force herself to say that he'd run-away, was urging her to find a restroom, and soon. Pulling into the Buy-More plaza, she slid to a stop in front of her cover employer, the large 'Closed for Re-modeling' sign telling everyone who approached the store that their frozen yogurt needs wouldn't be met.

With a quick turn and a yank, her keys were in here hand and after pulling the parking break into position, she through the door open and was about to climb from the car when she noticed the flashing red and blue lights in her rear view mirror that announced that her bad day as about to get worse.

"Please remain seated, Miss Walker" a familiar woman's voice called out through the amplified speaker that sat atop the police car that had just slid to a stop within inches of her rear bumper. "Please place your hands on the steering wheel until instructed to do otherwise."

"God dammit!" the normally in control blonde blurted out while following the instructions and placing her hands on the Porsche's steering wheel, albeit with much more force that was necessary. "This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening…" Sarah mumbled to herself, the four words becoming mantra as she ground her teeth together, watching in the rear view mirror as the current bane of her existence climbed from the cruiser and, after settling her baton into it's place on her belt, began walking towards her door.

"Miss walker, you do realize that public parking lots have an actual speed limit, don't you?" Officer Beckett asked, taking her mirrored glasses off and slipping them into a pocket on the side of her 'tac vest'.

"What, have you been following me so you could give me another ticket?" Sarah said from between clenched teeth, tapping her feet against the floorboard.

"License and registration, Miss Walker" the brunette law enforcement officer asked with a smirk. "You know the drill" she added, looking down into the car while flipping open the cover on her ticket pad.

"You can't be serious?" Sarah Walker practically hissed while reaching into her center console for the two pieces of identification she'd used more in the last two weeks than she'd used in her entire life. Sure, she'd usually counted on a loose blouse or her federal ID to get her out of tickets but ever since this particular law enforcement officer had seen her hit Chuck, she'd collected more tickets and fines than she though possible. Her position with the CIA had been of no use and several phone calls from higher ups, that should have put an end to the 'problem', had simply been met with LAPD higher ups who decided that they weren't going to bend, especially after close review of dash-cam video had shown that Officer Beckett had been doing her job. "You know this is starting to border on harassment, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, Age…Miss Walker, I wasn't aware that your employment lifted you above the law. I hadn't planned to give you a ticket when I agreed to stop by and see you but your complete lack of concern for pedestrians can't go un-acknowledged" she stated with a slight smile as she continued to scribble away at the form in her book. "I was originally just doing my Lieutenant a favor when you decided to thumb your nose at the law…yet again."

"Why were you stopping by to see me?" Sarah asked, suddenly curious despite the teeth grinding anger the was still flowing through her veins.

"Well, it seems that a…" Officer Beckett answered and then paused as if trying to remember something, "of yeah, a woman by the name of Elenor Faye Bartowski has filed a missing persons report about her brother, one Charles Irving Bartowski."

"What?" the now flabbergasted blonde managed to blurt out.

"Yeah, it seems that Miss Bartowski hasn't heard from her brother in over forty-eight hours. My Lieutenant remembered the report I'd filed and asked if I would mind following up on the report…since I had a connection, as it were" she answered before bending over and offering a pen to the stunned agent who simply grabbed the writing implement and scrawled at the bottom of the ticket that was being held just within arms reach. "So, have you heard from Mr. Bartowski?" Officer Beckett asked while tearing out the ticket from the pad in her hand and offering it back through the window along with the driver's license and registration she'd been holding on to.

"Ellie filed a missing persons report?" Sarah asked, still stunned and, if she was being honest with herself , more than a little confused.

"Yes, she did. I was just on my way to her residence when I happened to notice your car and the unsafe rate of speed it was traveling at, through a crowded parking lot. I was actually happy when I realized I could help my Lt. out while doing my part to keep the streets of Burbank safe. So, Age…Miss Walker, have you been in contact with the man I saw you assault not too long ago?"

'Why would Ellie file a missing persons report?' Sarah asked herself while mindlessly tossing the ticket, drivers license and registration into the center console. 'We know Chuck called her" she added, remembering the phonecall that Casey's surveillance equipment had recorded and she'd listened to dozens of times, the sound of her asset's voice helping to keep her focused.

"Miss Walker! Did you hear a word I said?" the brunette officer said, her hand tapping lightly on the roof of Sarah's beloved Porsche.

"What?"

"I said, have you seen or heard from Charles Bartowski?"

"What? No, uh, no I haven't. Are we done here?" Sarah asked with just a hint of an edge to her voice.

"Why? Do you have somewhere you have to be?" the uniformed woman asked, slipping her pen into her pocket with one hand while retrieving her sunglasses with the other.

"Yeah, I have to go and talk with Ellie" she snapped back, her hand already pushing her key into the ignition while she silently wondered what the hell was going on.

"I don't think that would be a very good idea, Agent Walker" Officer Beckett replied, evidently having given up all pretnse of pretending that the woman she was talking to was anything other than a CIA agent.

"Oh, and why's that, Officer? Because you have the hots for my boyfriend? Well, he's taken, so how about moving your POS cruiser before you really piss me off and I stop playing nice."

"That's funny, Miss Walker, because Elenor Bartowski doesn't seem to think so. She even hinted that maybe you were the reason her brother had gone missing."

"What?" Sarah managed to mumble before the reality of what she just heard sank in. "What?" she whispered to herself.

**A/N2 : **I've got more coming tomorrow…I really hate micro chapters but…well.


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: **So it took an extra day…sorry. The laptop and I had a slight problem and it was just resolved…luckily, in my favor…man, old dog, new tricks. Thanks to everyone who took some of their valuable time and reviewed the 'micro-chapter' I posted Tuesday…I'm thrilled that yall liked it…well, thrilled and a little stunned that yall forgotten all about little ole me(ok ok, the story, not me)…big thanks to everyone who has alerted or favorited this or any of my scribbles…even bigger thanks to all of you who take the time to review…it really warms the cockles of my heart…or as Denis might say, maybe even in the sub-cockle region…remember, good or bad, they all help…still don't own Chuck and, being a realist, I'm guessing I never will…just having fun with the characters so don't sue…it really would be a wasted venture…unless you're really hip on obtaining my Pog collection…I'm sure they'll be worth a fortune…some day…still having fun and trying to write more often…really, I am…it's life and this hatrack that keeps getting in the way…thanks to APR for setting me on this path, I owe you one, Jim…good damn thing Miss Cleo is no longer taking my calls or I'd have her give you such a metaphysical pinch…as always, your thoughts are welcome and encouraged. _**JT**_

**Run For Your Life, Chuck **Bartowski** - Chapter 7**

Ellie Bartowski looked up from the now dry plate in her hands and sighed when she realized that she'd been lost again. For what seemed like the millionth time since Chuck had called her she had been going over everything she thought she knew about Sarah Walker, wondering how she could have been so wrong. No matter how she looked at it, she was sure that the enigmatic blonde was in love with her little brother. The wistful, longing and hungry looks she'd seen couldn't have been an act. No one could be that good an actress, at least she didn't think anyone could be but Chuck's phone call left her doubting everything she had been so sure of.

Ever since she'd first met Sarah, she was sure she'd been watching a real life fairytale unfold. She loved her brother to no end but ever since Stanford she'd been worried about him ever pulling out of the funk that Jill and Bryce's betrayal had left him in. She still remembered the broken man she'd picked up at the bus station, his eyes lacking any of the spark that she'd always seen there. As the months had turned to years, she'd done her sisterly duty and kept a semi-steady stream of available friends flitting about the apartment but despite her hopes, her little brother always seemed to scare the women away. It wasn't a conscious effort on his part, he just seemed to lack the ability to stay away from the subject, no matter how many times she reminded him that no woman really wants to hear about an old girlfriend, especially one who had so obviously left him damaged. She never lost any friends because of it because Chuck had a natural charm that almost made him a worthy reclamation project…almost.

She kept hoping he'd find someone to spark his interest, both to bring him back into the world and, on a more selfish note, to maybe chase her brother's oldest friend away. She would always be grateful to Morgan for being there when Chuck returned from Stanford but she really wished he'd spend less time at the apartment. When Chuck had met Sarah, she'd wanted to cheer and jump for joy but had restrained herself, doing her happy dance only when no one had been around to see.

The first time she'd seen Sarah she'd been shocked, both by the woman's striking beauty and by the way she looked at her brother when she thought no one else was watching. She knew she was prejudiced when it came to her little brother but she'd still been shocked that someone like Sarah had obviously been able to see what she'd known all along, that Chuck was a diamond in the rough and it would just take a little caring attention to get him to shine.

After their first date, when he'd stayed out all night, she'd worried a little that they might have jumped into everything a little too quickly but as time passed, she'd realized she'd been wrong about her assumptions and that they'd really just spent the night talking, just had Chuck had told her after she'd told him that she hoped he'd 'been safe'. The blush that accompanied his assertion that they'd 'just talked' convinced her that maybe, just maybe, her brother might have finally found the person who'd help him get past Jill, Bryce and Stanford and for that, she's truly been grateful.

But now, after the call from Chuck that had destroyed the plans she'd been making to include Sarah in her wedding party and, afterwards, to start aggressively 'hinting' they take their relationship to the next level, now she had to decide how she would confront the woman who'd obviously been playing her little brother. She still couldn't believe that Sarah had been in contact with her ex the whole time she'd been leading Chuck on but her little brother seemed very sure of it. They'd spent almost an hour on the phone while Chuck explained his plans to take a vacation, to see a little of the country in the hopes that he'd find a way to harden his heart before he had to return to Burbank. She'd wanted to cry when she'd heard him talking about becoming harder, despite his assertion that he wasn't really going to change, just that he needed to figure out he could steel himself against the hurt that seemed to follow anytime he gave his heart to someone.

Fifteen minutes into the phone conversation and Ellie had been ready to hunt Sarah Walker down and confront her about her treatment of her brother and when she'd let the idea slip, Chuck had begged her not to confront her, 'hmmmng' and 'hawing' about why she should listen to him until he'd broken down and dropped the second bomb of the phone call. Of curse, the second bomb made his first revelation seem like a little firecracker with the ease with which it blew away everything she'd thought she'd known about her little brother, Sarah Walker and the life that had been going on around her ever since Morgan had launched himself onto Chuck's back and announced that Chuck had a date.

She still didn't know what had been the biggest shock and she'd sat, stunned into silence for almost an hour as her baby brother told her the story of Bryce Larkin's final betrayal and everything that had happened because of it. When had finished his tale of 'the Intersect and the 'Nerd' ,as he'd decided to name the story, she'd wanted to shout bullshit and laugh that her brother had actually taken the time to make up such a ridiculous tale but somehow, she couldn't do it, because in some horrible, twisted way it almost explained everything that had been happening around her that, on second look, she should have seen.

When she finally found the strength to speak, her first question hadn't been about the computer in Chuck's head or him being dragooned into government service, without pay, or about her neighbor, the sometimes scary John Casey, NSA agent. No, her first question, out of all the questions rattling around in her brain, had been about Sarah and her feelings for her brother because, whether her brother wanted to believe it or not, she was still sure that the blonde CIA agent was in love with her brother. She'd seen the looks and she was positive that Sarah Walker was head over heels in love and until she looked her in the eye and told her that she had no feelings, whatsoever, for her brother, she was going to stick with her belief.

She'd refused to argue with him on the subject, choosing instead to do what big sisters have always done, since the dawn of time, say yes and then do whatever they thought best. Chuck must have sensed this because he let the subject drop after begging her to do the same. Changing the subject, she'd asked him how long he thought he might be gone and had wanted to cry when he'd simply told her that he wasn't sure. He promised to call at least once a week and when she'd asked about the government tracing his calls, since she was now painfully aware of the surveillance they'd been under for months, he'd laughed before promising her that the government didn't have anyone smart enough to trace his phone calls. She hadn't argued because, big sister pride aside, she knew Chuck was a genius and, when it came to electronics, she believed him.

Wanting to change the subject, Chuck had asked about simple things and they'd talked for another thirty minutes until he'd asked if she'd picked a date for her wedding and that was the straw that broke the camel's back. She'd begged him to come home and then asked how he could just leave her like their parents had done all those years ago. It had taken him almost fifteen minutes to make her understand that his leaving was the only way he could think of to keep everyone safe and that's when it struck her that she and Devon might actually be in danger. When she'd shifted from tears to near hysteria, Chuck had promised that he'd do whatever it took to make sure everyone was safe, even promising to come home if that was the only way to keep his promise. Once she'd calmed back down, he'd promised to call the next week and then asked for a favor and when he'd explained what he wanted her to do and why, she was only too happy to promise to make the call when the time was right.

She'd had to wait two days before making the call for Chuck and had spent the entire time worrying that she'd have to talk to Sarah before she could file the missing persons report, wondering if she'd be able to remain calm while talking to the woman who she once thought of as a friend. Surprisingly, she didn't hear a word from either of Chuck's handlers, a term her brother had used and she'd adopted as a way of distancing herself from them, and she wasn't sure how she felt about their absence.

Since making the call, she'd been puttering around the apartment, shifting into 'cleaning mode' as a way to keep her mind off of things until a representative of the LAPD showed up to take her report. She still wasn't sure why she'd told the detective she'd spoken with that she thought Sarah might know where her brother was but she smiled when she thought about the questions that her 'almost-bridesmaid' would have to answer.

The sound of voices from the courtyard brought here back to reality and she set down the plate she'd probably dried to within an inch of it's life and then moved so she could look out the kitchen window. Standing near the fountain were two uniformed officers and, surprise surprise, Sarah Walker, face to face with the taller of the two cops. She couldn't hear what exactly was being said but the posture of the two women told her that they weren't exchanging beauty tips. She was tempted to stand and watch, hoping that something might happen but if half of what Chuck had told her was true, Sarah might actually hurt the two officers if things continued to escalate, and she couldn't allow that to happen.

After folding her damp dish towel and placing it on the counter, Ellie walked to the front door, pausing briefly at the hallway mirror to take a deep breath and make sure she had her game face on. Resuming her 'mission', she opened the front door and stepped into the courtyard, not surprised when all three faces turned in her direction. A quick glance revealed that John Casey's door was open, slightly.

'Here we go, the gang's all here' she told herself, taking another deep steadying breath, 'you can do this. It's for Chuck. Show time.'

"Sarah, what a surprise to see you. Where's Chuck…where's my brother?"

**A/N:again…**next time, the low down on the show down…the rumble in the jungle(what, there's plenty of plants in the courtyard)…ok, ok…what Ellie had to say and how that went over…here's a hint…not especially well.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Something else…hope it's readable. Still not up to my usual length but I'm working on it. Patience…this one fingered flailing at the keyboard, while amusing to watch, is tiring for an old fogey. I don't own Chuck or any part of the official 'Chuckverse'…all mistakes are the result of my over inflated writer's ego…and the fact that I would hate to force someone else to correct my scribbles. Thanks to EAD and OM for the encouragement. Hang in there, OM…I want pictures from the pyramids when those crafty Incans are prover right…wait, that could be problematic…how about pictures the day before?…Hey, The Carrot…quit editing and share. As always, a big thank you to all who have alerted, favorited and hung in there while I stepped away for a bit! Also, thanks to anyone who spares the time to share your thoughts about my scribbles…any reviews are always appreciated. Thanks Jim, I'm still having fun, it just took a little while to get back. _**JT**_

**Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski - Chapter 8 **

Chuck looked up from the menu in his hands to find his waitress staring down at him, the look on her face letting him know that she had been standing there for much longer than she appreciated. Still unsure what he wanted to eat, he was about to apologize and ask for a little more time when his cel phone began vibrating in his pocket. Holding up a finger to let his server know that he needed a moment, he turned his head while pulling the phone from his pocket and tapping the accept icon.

"Hi, Ellie. I'm a little busy right now. Can I call you back in just a few minutes?" Chuck spoke rapidly and after getting a 'sure, that'd be fine, little brother', he returned the cel to his pocket and then turned, only to find that the waitress had decided to take advantage of the interruption and head off to one of her other tables. Before he had the chance to return his attention to his menu, his phone began to vibrate again and he snatched the offending appliance from his pocket, curious to see who was trying to contact him now.

Looking at the display, he found the 'unknown caller' id and immediately began to wonder who else had managed to get his number. Of course Morgan had the number but, with the exception of his sister, nobody else should be calling him. Of course, it was entirely possible that 'Google' was calling with some amazing offer but he thought he'd blocked them after their last call. He shook his head as he thought about the amazing number of sales calls that had managed to get through to his 'blocked' number.

"I really don't want to update my Google account" Chuck announced after tapping the accept icon and lifting the phone to his ear. Have a nice day" he finished, somehow unable to be rude, even to the people that many considered more annoying than head lice. Before he had the chance to hit the disconnect icon, a familiar voice , emanating from the tiny speaker, caught his attention.

"Mr. Bartowski?" the tinny, disembodied voice called.

"Uh…General Beckman?" Chuck almost whispered, turning his head slightly so the closest customer wouldn't inadvertently listen in on a conversation that might get them into trouble. "How did you get this number?"

"Really? Mr. Bartowski, didn't you learn anything in the time you worked with Agents Casey and Walker?"

"Well, the fact that I don't see an extraction team storming my location seems to indicate that I did manage to learn something during my forced servitude" he replied, making no effort to hide the pride he felt because he'd managed to avoid the aforementioned teams for ton days.

"Forced servitude, Mr. Bartowski? You can't seriously be equating your time serving your country with slavery, can you? And are you sure that you learned anything from your handlers? Or are you just using what you've picked up from that silly computer game that you seem to be so fond of."

"No, I wouldn't compare it to slavery but I didn't really have a choice did I? I either helped you or you'd have found me a nice, cozy bunker to send the rest of my life in. When you add the fact that I wasn't being paid for helping Agents Casey and Walker, who I believe were being paid for their efforts, then I have to say it sure sounds like forced servitude to me. Now, is there a reason for this call, besides some threats about what will happen if I don't give myself up?" Chuck finished, remembering to keep his voice low as he noticed his waitress leave one table and begin to make her way towards him again.

"I haven't called to threaten you, Mr. Bartowski, in fact, quite the opposite."

"How so?" he asked while silently pointing towards a picture on his menu and then mouthing a thanks to the young woman who'd just taken his order.

"Mr. Bartowski, are you sure that sitting in the Grand Old Opry is the best place to be having this conversation…oh, isn't that interesting?"

"What's that, General" Chuck asked, trying to keep the smug satisfaction from his voice as he waited to hear what the head of the NSA had to say next.

"Well, it appears that you're now in the Bahamas…and now you're at Lenin's Tomb? I didn't realize that teleportation was part of the skills you'd learned from that game."

"What game might that be, General?"

"Mr. Bartowski, I may have underestimated you and, possibly, taken you for granted, but please don't imagine that makes me an idiot. I have an entire class of new recruits at 'the farm' playing 'Run For Your Life' in the hope that someone might figure out how you've been able to stay of the grid so effectively. I've even spent a little time online."

"You what?!" Chuck blurted out and then quickly looked around

, smiling and offering a shoulder shrug to the few patrons who'd looked in his direction at his outburst. "You've been what?" he asked in a hushed tone while nodding his thanks at the waitress who'd just appeared and refilled his glass of ice water.

'Believe it or not, Mr. Bartowski, I've come to the conclusion that passing on the training version of this game may have been an error on the part of the CIA and the government has already contracted the game's designers to produce an updated version for training purposes."

"And that's the reason for this phone call?"

"No, Mr. Bartowski, the reason for this phone call is to ask you to come in and…"

"General, are you seriously asking me to stop moving and give you a stationary target so Major Casey can put a bullet through my head? I know you issued the termination order the moment your precious Intersect computer came on line and, to be honest, I am a huge fan of having my brains on the inside of my head. Having this silly attachment to my life, I'm going to have to turn down your request. I don't care that the machine you wanted to replace me, went kablooey. The fact that you seem to find me replaceable one day and then important enough to order Agent Walker to seduce me the next leaves me without a lot of faith in you or the way you do things. Have a nice day, General" Chuck finished and then quickly tapped the disconnect icon and then tapped three other icons in rapid succession, smiling to himself as he pictured the look on the General's face when she tried calling him again and found her call routed to the Justin Beiber fan club in Botswana.

Deciding that he wanted to enjoy his lunch in peace, despite the General's best efforts to push his buttons, intentionally or not, he turned his phone off and slipped it back into his pocket, promising himself to write a program that would automatically reroute any calls to his phone from government registered numbers to General Diane Beckman's home phone. Sure, she'd have her number changed right away but it was sure to irritate her for a little while.

The arrival of the waitress with the food he'd ordered brought him back to reality and he smiled as the young woman slid the plate in front of him. Grabbing the bottle of ketchup, he set about 'doctoring' his cheeseburger and fries.

"Argument with your mother?" a voice asked, causing him to misjudge the strength of the shake he was giving the Heinz bottle and he watched as a large dollop of ketchup splashed across the table top.

"An argument with who?!" he managed to stutter out while staring at the mess he'd so masterfully created.

"I heard your 'you what?' and it reminded me how I often sound when I'm arguing with my mother so I just assumed…" she trailed off seeing the horrified expression on his face. "So, not your mother?"

"Oh god no!" he asserted, shaking his head vigorously while grabbing a napkin to sop at the Pollack impression he'd created in front of him. Feeling embarrassed, he refused to lift his eyes, even when a second set of hands began working at the mess in front of him. Within moments, the mess was gone and he allowed his eyes to make contact with the young woman who'd been taking such good care of him. He took note of her name tag and promised himself to leave 'Ginger' a large tip. Looking up at his server, he offered a quite thank you with a small smile before returning his attention to his plate of ketchup and with a side of french fries.

"I'll check back, once I see if I can scare any of my other customers into making a mess" she said with a smile before turning and quickly walking away.

"Way to go, Bartowski" he mumbled to himself, watching as the young woman moved away, "a nerd and a spaz…what a winning combo" he continued to ramble on under his breath, secretly glad that a certain blonde spy hadn't been around to see his ketchup splooge. 'And there it is' he told himself, 'you can't avoid thinking about her, can you'. And just like that, the good mood he'd managed to cultivate, despite hearing from the General, evaporated in an instant. The food in his mouth, which moments before had been delicious, suddenly tasted like ash and he swallowed quickly, reaching for the ice water in the hope it would wash away the sour taste of loss and betrayal that always seemed to fill his mouth whenever he thought of Sarah Walker.

Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he quickly pulled a twenty dollar bill out and, throwing it on the table, he got to his feet and left the diner. If he'd looked back he might have felt bad at the guilty look on his waitress' face and he might have gone back to apologize, assuring her it hadn't been her comment that had killed his appetite. No, it had been the thought of a woman who still had a stranglehold on his heart that had driven him back onto the road.

Crossing the parking lot, he unlocked the door and through himself behind the wheel of his latest rental car. After backing out of the parking space, he slammed the car into drive and, ignoring common sense, spun the tires and launched the car towards the street. Surprised by the unexpected power of the vehicle, he slammed a foot onto the brake, already silently chiding himself for acting like some teenage hot-rodder. Under normal circumstances, he would have had plenty of stopping room but the combination of excessive horse power and a patch of loose gravel created abnormal circumstances and he watched, silently screaming to himself as time seemed to slow down, as a huge work van slammed into the front corner of his car as it slid out into traffic.

'Way to go, dumb ass" he heard Casey's voice yell in his head before the car jerked violently to the right and then there wasn't anything but blackness.

**A/N: Again-**Hah…a cliffy…bet you weren't expecting that, were you? What? What? Oh, now you're gonna drop a hateful review? Than my work here is done…that's right, all part of my egotistical plan, my giant need for your attention…my huge bid for reviews…hit that thingie…you know you wanna! _**JT**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Run For Your Life, Chuck Bartowski – Chapter 9**

After taking a sip from the drink in his hand, Chuck slowly lowered the glass to the bar while lifting his eyes to stare into the mirror that covered the length of the wall opposite him. A quick survey showed that there had been no changes to the small group of people that had been in the bar when he'd slipped through the front door almost an hour before. His visual sweep done, he allowed himself a brief moment to stare, yet again, at the bandage that covered almost the entire right side of his face.

'Trucker hats are not a good look for you, Bartowski' he heard Casey's voice tell him and he couldn't help but agree with the disembodied fashion critic that had taken up residence in his bruised and still hurting head. 'At least it hides most of the bandages' he silently pointed out to his invisible critic, 'at least until I get to unwrap them' he added before reaching up and grabing the bill of the hat between his thumb and forefinger. 'I wouldn't do that if I were you' he heard Casey's voice again just a moment too late as he tugged on the hat and immediately regretted it. The flash of pain just served to remind him that he'd sworn of the prescribed pain meds and the cuts under the bandages were terribly tender.

"God dammit" he hissed and quickly looked around to make sure no one had heard and were now paying attention to him. He'd chosen this particular bar because it had both a front and back door as well as a fairly large window that would allow him to escape through the men's room, if push came to shove. The seat he'd taken at the bar allowed him the best view of the entire bar and was closer to the back, leaving him closer to two exits. When his surveilance told him he was still just another drinker, he lowered his head slightly, leaning forward just enough to stare down at the display on his phone.

He still wasn't sure why he'd agreed to meet one of his fellow players from _**RFYL**_ but something about the emails he'd been exchanging with _Oldestman _made him believe he'd be safe. Of all the players he'd been competing against, the 'merc' from Texas had been one of the best and he'd actually learned a few things from their exchanges, things that made him wonder if the person he'd been waiting to meet might actually be an Agent. His thoughts about that possibility were a direct result of his conversation with General Diane Beckman and her comments about her minions playing the game.

"Minions" he mumbled to himself, chuckling and smiling, despite his aching head, when he pictured little yellow things scurrying around at the General's beck and call.

"Well at least you can still find some humor in something" a quite voice said from his right side.

"What?" he blurted out, spinning quickly to see who had managed to sneak up on him. "Who are…?"

"Whoa, hold on there, John" the older man said, a slight smile on his face. The way he'd pronounced the word John left no doubt that he knew it wasn't Chuck's real name but that he wasn't going to call him on it, at least not right away. "I'm Tom but I guess you know me better as Oldestman. It's a real pleasure to meet you" he finished, holding out his hand with a look pf patience and humor on his face as he waited for a reaction.

"You're Oldestman?" Chuck asked, automatically reaching out to shake the proffered hand.

"You were expecting someone younger to have the handle Oldestman" his new companion asked with a smile. "Even us old farts know how to work them new fangled computer doo-hickeys" he added while gripping Chuck's hand tightly.

"No sir…it's not that. It's just that…well…I, uh…yeah, I guess I was expecting someone a little younger" he admitted sheepishly, retrieving his hand and then doing a quick visual sweep of the bar, half expecting to see a team of some sort, ready to take him in.

"I came alone, John" the old man said with amusement twinkling in his eyes. Following Chuck's eyes, he also looked around before waving towards the bartender. "I think I'll have a scotch. Would you like another?" he asked, nodding towards the glass sitting on the bar.

"No…no thanks" Chuck replied, picking up his still half filled glass, silently amazed that he still saw the glass as being half filled. "It's just tonic, anyway" he added before taking a small sip.

"That's smart. Me, well, I'm a scotch man and I'm enjoying it, while I can" he announced before turning and informing the bartender to pour him three fingers of the best stuff he had, neat.

Chuck watched silently as his new companion observed his drink being poured and then did another quick sweep, his eyes coming back to find the old man holding up his glass towards him in an inviting salute. Without a second thought, he picked up his own glass and moved to clink it against the one held towards him.

"Here's to staying safe and one step ahead of the bastards, Charles" the older man offered before taking a deep swallow and then turning to stare into the mirror facing them.

"What?!" Chuck blurted out, quickly lowering his glass to the bar and looking around wildly, sure that his run was now at an end.

"Calm down, John. I didn't mean to spook you. I can assure you that I'm not here with anyone and no one knows were we are…at least, I haven't told anyone" he said while making a gentling motion with his hand.

"Did you call me Charles?" Chuck asked, the panic still sitting squarely in his throat, his body thrumming with the need to flee.

"Yeah, I did, sorry about that. I wasn't trying to blow your cover there, John" he replied with a wink. "It's just been a really long time since I saw you last, that's all."

"You know me?" he asked, his flight response still keyed to a very high level.

"Well, I guess you could say I knew your parents more than I knew you. The only time I saw you was in the hospital, just after you'd been born. Your mom allowed me one quick look and then told me to get the hell out of her life…and that's what I did. Running into you in the game was just a really strange coincidence."

"You knew my mother?" Chuck finally managed to get out, his urge to flee now totally replaced with huge ball of confusion.

"Don't make that big a deal out of it, Charles. It was a long time ago. I wouldn't have asked for this meeting except I just got the word from my Doc and…well…a bucket list is a hell of a thing, especially when your ticket's getting punched a lot sooner than you'd like. You never expect it, of course, but working in the business makes you a little bit more of realist, I guess."

"What…I don't understand. What the hell is going on?" Chuck asked, his attention focused one hundred percent on the man sitting next to him.

"I'm dying, kid. Shuffling off this mortal coil and there was a few things I wanted to do before I get to shake hands with Jim and the rest of my friends in…well, in where ever we end up. I figured on seeing if the Mayans were right about the world having an expiraton date but it don't look like I'll get to see that so I figured I'd try and set something right. Figured I'd tell you about your parents…if you wanna to hear the story."

"Yeah, Tom, I would" he managed to finally get out, his throat suddenly dry.

"Well, let's grab that table" Oldestman said, pointing towards the one table in the place that offered a surveillance position that was almost as good as the bar. "Barkeep, another scotch for me and another tonic water for my friend" he announced as he got to his feet.

"Make it a Jaeger" Chuck called back. "I've got a feeling I'm gonna need it" he added quietly to himself.

**Next- **the story


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Hey gang, I know it's been a long while but life's been a twister for the last few months. This is a really short chapter, just me stretching my fingers and seeing if an idea I had this morning could be sorta fleshed out and posted within 6 hours…surprise surprise…it can…now, the important question, is it any good? Let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone who's encouraged me by asking for more and I'm really sorry it's taken so long! A big thank you to all of the authors here who keep reminding us that Chuck is still as good as we want him to be. Thanks to everyone who's alerted and/or favorite my scribbles, you're the best. Also, thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review…it really helps. Finally a big thank you to Jim, who got me started and to Tom, who inspired me to keep pecking away at the keyboard. APR and Oldestman…miss your words! Sorry this chapter is so short but I hope to get yall some more…soon! **JT**

**Run For Your life, Chuck Bartowski - ****Chapter 10**

Chuck Bartowski was sure that his head would explode at any moment or, maybe simply detach itself from his neck and float out the back door of the bar, the door which was currently being held open by some drunk who seemed to have forgotten how to let go of the handle. Giving his hat-rest a quick and, thanks to the Jaeger he been sipping for the last three hours, relatively pain free shake, he turned his attention back to the man seated across from him who'd just put the finishing touches on a story about his parents.

He'd been skeptical when Tom had told him that he'd known his parents but the tale that had been spun, while they'd shared several drinks, had left him stunned. At a loss for words as he struggled to grasp the almost fantastical aspects of the story, he slid out of the booth, excusing himself before heading towards the back of the bar. A faint 'take your time' followed him as he pushed through the swinging door, his eyes adjusting quickly to change in brightness as he stepped into the restroom. After a quick check to make sure he was alone, he made his way to the urinal, pondering if he should call his sister and share the story he'd just heard.

After a shake and a zip, he moved to what he was sure was a fake marble counter-top with the intention of washing his hands and maybe, just maybe, splashing some water on his face. He paused as he reached his hand towards the small handles marked 'H' and 'C', surprised to find that the 'antiseptic over toilet funk' odor he'd encountered when he'd walked in didn't seem to extend to the bathroom sink. In fact, the whole area was surprisingly clean looking with a bottle of Purell off to the side that he definitely planned to use.

Feeling refreshed after a thorough hand cleaning and a few splashes of cold water on his face, Chuck stared at his reflection in the spotty mirror and wondered if anyone else would notice the changes that he was sure the knowledge of his parents past had left written on his face. Would Ellie see that their parents had left them because they believed it was the only way to keep them safe? Would Sarah see that an agent loving an analyst wasn't an insurmountable problem?

Shouldering the door open while still meshing his fingers together to spread the last remains of the hand sanitizer, Chuck was halfway to the booth where he'd been sitting with Tom when something kicked him in his 'senses' and he froze, his eyes darting around the bar before settling on the mountain of a man who had somehow crammed himself into the small seat that, until a few minutes before, he'd been occupying. Another quick look around the bar revealed no other obvious agents and no one who seemed to be hanging to close to either the front or back doors.

Everything seemed to freeze and Chuck began making plans to reverse his direction and bolt towards the back door, hoping his sudden push through the exit would catch anyone outside off guard, giving his just the slightest chance to escape. While he was busy calculating the odds of his different escape plans, he took note of the less than happy look on Major John Casey's face. After noting the look, he saw that both of his former team mate's hands were resting, palm up, on top of the table while his drinking companion had one hand beneath the table, one hand wrapped loosely around his drink and a vaguely smug smile on his face.

Before he could choose which of his escape plans to use, he locked eyes with the man who'd just spent three hours telling him the 'epic' love story of Stephen and Mary Bartowski and decided he needed to find out just what the hell was going on. Resuming his forward motion, a few steps found him standing next to the booth, deciding that sitting down wasn't something he felt comfortable doing.

"What's going on, Tom?" he asked, not surprised when his question got an angry growl from the NSA agent who looked anything but happy to see him.

"Well, this young man decided to invite himself to 'our' party and didn't appreciate it when I showed him my party crasher deterrent" he answered, leaning back just enough to let Chuck catch a glimpse of the 1911 Colt that was held just under the table and pointed directly at John Casey's crotch.

"You invited me" Casey growled out.

"You were told to come alone…" Tom shot back, ignoring the look coming his way from the shocked young man standing at the end of the table.

"I did come alone" Casey rumbled back at him.

"…and un-armed" he replied, turning a knowing look in Chuck's direction.

"Hey!" Casey yelped, somehow managing to look hurt and terrifying at the same time. "I only brought 'Sissy' " he answered, nodding towards the snub-nosed 45 that sat, partially concealed by a napkin, on the bench seat next to him.

"Sissy?" Chuck managed to force out, still stunned by the strange turn of events that was threatening to put serious damper on his afternoon. Of course he had questions that were more important but something about the strange appellation the burly agent used for the instrument of death just struck an odd chord in him and he had to have an answer before he could get to the bigger concerns.

"Sissy?" the older man asked at about the same instant as Chuck and for probably a very similar reason.

"What?" Casey asked with a shrug of his massive shoulders, looking like the name he'd given the gun explained it all. "Little girly gun" he added when he noticed the confused looks coming his way.

"Tom" Chuck said after giving his head a quick shake and turning his attention to the man he'd just spent three hours with, "would you mind telling me why Major Casey says you 'invited' him to this 'party'?"

"Well, it was actually Diane's idea" he answered while watching Chuck bend down and gingerly pick up the gun that was sitting on the bench.

"Who's Diane?" Chuck asked while easing himself into the booth opposite the still bristling NSA agent.

"General Beckman, numbnuts" Casey barked out, seeming to take great enjoyment from the dumbstruck look that the answer put on Chuck's face.

"Whu….?" Chuck managed to choke out.

"Yeah, I was gonna bring Walker but a broken nose and two black eyes and a broken collar bone has left her feeling less than pretty." Casey added, obviously enjoying the news he was sharing.

"Sarah got hurt?" Chuck managed to eek out, the confused look slowly slipping towards a catatonic look.

"Yeah, your sister punched her after your new girlfriend tased her" Casey answered, the short barks following the announcement leaving no doubt that Major John Casey was having more fun than he'd had in quite some time.

"Wha…wha…?" Chuck mumbled, clearly believing that he'd somehow fallen into some sort of twilight zone.

"I'm sure Diane can explain" Tom offered before pulling out a small laptop and flipping it open.

**A/N:2 **Sorry for the brevity…just a little 'stretching' before getting into a fun and frolicking explanation. **JT **


End file.
